


Even If We Don't Talk

by tuppenny



Series: All Ways [2]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M, First Date, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 00:10:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15618114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuppenny/pseuds/tuppenny
Summary: Davey & Chaya's first date





	Even If We Don't Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there to everyone! Computer's been in the shop so I haven't written anything in ages... I'll get back to the other multi-chapter story soon, but in the meantime here's some fluff from the Davey side of the world!

**April 1909**

David steeled himself and knocked on the warped wooden door in front of him. He stood there, waiting, for the span of a heartbeat, and then a short, dark-haired young woman was there, beaming up at him. 

“Hello,” she said, her smile full of mischief and shyness and radiance all at once. 

He grinned and offered his arm to her, which she accepted with a quick bob of her head. Her hand at the crook of his elbow was sweaty and trembling and perfect, and he looked down to meet her gaze. “Shall we, Miss Rosenfeld?” 

“Let’s shall,” she said, tightening her grip on his arm as they descended the rickety tenement stairs.

They said nothing else until they were out in the dirty streets of the city and several blocks away from the building.

“I’m nervous,” Davey blurted out, dropping Chaya’s arm.

“What? _Why?”_ She said, her dark eyes nearly black with confusion.

“I want you to like me,” he confessed, licking his lips nervously.

She gave a short burst of laughter. “I already do.”

He raised his head, bewildered. “You… what now?”

“You heard me,” she said, suddenly shy. “Why do you think I agreed to see you tonight?” 

David didn’t need to think twice about that one. “Pity,” he said decisively.

She looked at him with fondness, and as he saw some of the tension in her shoulders begin to fade, he realized she was just as nervous as he was. “That’s not it at all,” she reassured him, pulling his arm back into her grip. He stiffened and then relaxed, unable to stop a brilliant smile from spreading across his face.

“You really like me, don’t you,” she said, half a comment and half a question, and he nodded fervently. “What a relief,” she sighed, and they began to walk again. He gave her a quizzical look, and she returned it with a self-conscious laugh. “I halfway convinced myself that the other day was a dream,” she explained. “It was too perfect to have happened to me.” 

He grinned and knocked her shoulder slightly, the way he did with close friends. She stumbled and grabbed his arm even tighter for balance, and he found himself apologizing profusely as she tried to assure him that it wasn’t necessary, she was fine, she just wasn’t used to boys, was all, and it was all okay, and he really shouldn’t feel badly about it, and…

It took the rest of the walk to the Kosher restaurant that David had selected to straighten out the misunderstanding. 

Neither of them had much experience with this sort of thing, they realized. Isolated dates for Davey, yes, and one, maybe two weeklong flirtations with boys at the synagogue for Chaya, but neither of them had ever been on a date with someone they’d dreamed of dating. Neither of them had ever thought that someone they found attractive could possibly be attracted back. These were uncharted waters for both of them, and they weren’t quite sure how to navigate.

They kept up an easy conversation until their meal arrived, and then they both lapsed into silence. David finished his food first and took the opportunity to admire the girl sitting across from him, her curly hair haloed around her head, her eyes twinkling even though they hadn’t spoken in ages. 

“This is nice,” he said, breaking the quiet. She cocked her head, and he smiled. “Being here with you. Outside of the library.” 

She set down her fork and laughed. “How many meals do you think we ate together at that library?” 

“Hundreds,” he said, shaking his head. “Although… you know, this is the first meal we're eating together where we don’t have to worry about how loud we're being, and here the two of us have been sitting in silence.” 

“I like that about you, though,” she said, stretching her hand towards him before stopping, uncertain, and placing it on the table. He met her eyes to make sure he was doing the right thing and then finished the gesture for her, clasping her hand in his. She smiled. “You do not make me feel like I need to speak just to chase away the quiet.” He brushed his thumb over her knuckles and she blushed. “Is… Can I use Yiddish?” 

“Of course,” he said, surprised she even needed to ask. He supposed he shouldn’t have been, though, because she’d almost certainly gotten the same training he had: Yiddish at home or in the neighborhood, English farther afield. And this was a Jewish restaurant, yes, but goyim came here, too, seeing as it was located on a corner where Jewish territory began to bleed into Irish. Add that to the fact that the two of them always spoke in English at Columbia, and he could see why she was tentative. “ _Alemol,”_ he added, and her eyes crinkled. 

“I like talking with you, David, but I like not talking with you, too,” she said. “Forgive me if this is too forward, but you… you seem to understand me even without words.” Her voice dropped slightly. “I… I know this is only our first date, and I know that for the whole year we were at the library I was always just a friend in your eyes, but… well, to me you’ve been more than that for quite a while now, and I…” She ducked her head and pulled her hand away from his, tucking it into her lap. “It sounds silly, maybe, and maybe I’m just a silly girl with no education who isn’t good enough for someone like you, but… but you make me feel comfortable without saying a thing, and I like that about you. I like that… you… that... a lot,” she said, her face flushing scarlet.

“You don’t look comfortable right now,” he teased, then hastened to correct course when she frowned. “Chaya,” he said, lifting slightly from his seat and leaning forwards. “Chaya, I just mean that I feel the same way about you.” She shook her head. “I do,” he insisted, biting his lip. “I know it took me a long time to work it out,” he said, making her snort, “But that means I’m absolutely certain about it now. You’re not dreaming, you’re not being silly, you’re the most well-read person I know outside of my undergraduate literature professors—and they’re insane, Chaya, no one should read as much as they do—and if anyone’s not good enough for anyone, _I’m_ not good enough for _you_.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on,” he said, eyebrows raised. “ _Look_ at you,” he said, gesturing to her. “You’re breathtaking! And smart, and funny, and—”

“Shh,” she said, laying a finger across his lips. “Save some of these sweet words for when you take me home. The payoff will be better at my front door.”

He grinned and sat back down.

They were silent again, but both of them felt perfectly at ease in it now, knowing the other liked the quiet and would speak because they wanted to, not because they thought they had to. 

“Dancing?” David asked, reaching for his wallet as the waiter came to take the empty plates away. 

Her eyes lit up. “Yes, _please_ ,” she said, and David felt his heart flip. He couldn’t wait to see her dance; he was certain that this bright, brilliant girl would set the room on fire. 

He was right. Chaya was an excellent dancer. For all that she was small and unassuming in everyday life, here she commanded attention, her wide hips and wild curls swinging with a life of their own as he whirled her across the dance floor. They lost themselves in the rhythm of the music and the heat of each other’s eyes as he matched her step for step, their cheeks growing flushed and their breath coming heavy as the band reeled off one fast tune after another. “You’re beautiful,” he gasped when the number came to an end, and she grinned up at him, her hair damp and her eyes aglow. 

She closed her eyes and pulled him into a hug, her chest heaving against his. Her head fit perfectly under his chin and even though he knew he shouldn’t, not in public, he couldn’t help himself—he kissed her tangled curls and laid his head on hers. “Unbelievably beautiful,” he repeated, unable to fathom how he’d gotten so lucky.

“Walk me home,” she said, pulling back and smiling up at him. “I want to thank you, and I can’t do that here.”

He laughed and slipped his hand into hers, tugging her out of the crowded dance hall and into the crisp spring evening. They were mostly quiet on the walk home, though they pointed amusing street signs and garish outfits out to each other as they went, giggling about things that weren’t even funny, giddy in the way that people often are when their hearts are full.

They took the tenement steps slowly, neither one wanting the night to end, both of them wanting the goodnight kiss she’d as good as promised him, both of them fully aware that if they didn’t return soon, Chaya’s father would object to any future outings Davey might suggest.

“This is me,” she said eventually, clutching his hand just as firmly as ever as she nodded to the front door of the tiny apartment she shared with her father.

“It is,” he said, his words just as pointless as hers. He flicked his eyes to the battered door and deflated slightly. “I don’t want to let you go just yet,” he admitted.

She beamed, regaining some of the spark that had dimmed on their way up the stairs. “Then come find me again, Mr. Jacobs,” she said, stretching up on her tiptoes so that her nose was now even with his chin. “And this time? Don’t let me go for quite so long.” 

“I won’t,” he promised fiercely, his hand tightening on her arm. She seemed satisfied, and he scanned her face, making sure he was understanding her correctly. “May I…?” 

She nodded, still smiling, and he tilted his head sideways and pressed his lips to hers. It was a soft kiss, a chaste kiss, a kiss that was over all too soon, but it was long enough for Davey to know he wanted more. “Goodnight, Chaya,” he said, his voice husky. 

“Good night, David,” she whispered, stretching back up on her toes and brushing a kiss against his cheek.

He watched her slip softly into the dimly lit apartment and waited until he heard her flip the locks before heading up one more floor to his parents’ place. The touch of her lips lingered on his skin through his mother’s questions, his father’s smiles, and his brother’s boisterous teasing, giving him the patience to get through the family routine even though all he wanted to do was sit down and relive the evening over and over and over again. 

As he laid in bed that night, his legs cramped next to Les', his heart thumping at the mere thought of the dark-eyed girl who’d captivated him so completely, he started to smile. He was still sailing through new waters with this, he was still off-balance and overwhelmed, and he still had no idea what would happen next, but somehow… somehow he didn’t really care. David preferred to have a plan for everything, but he could already tell this wasn’t the sort of thing you could plan out. Nor did he particularly want to. Spending time with Chaya sent sparks through his brain, setting him alight in a way he hadn’t been since the heady days of the strike, and even though he wasn’t sure about the future, he was absolutely sure of this: Everything he’d told her was true. He really liked her, being with her was comfortable and warm and right, and she was breathtakingly, unbelievably beautiful. 

Despite the pain of Les' bony feet kicking him in the shins, Davey grinned up in the darkness, imagining Chaya dreaming of him in the apartment below. He had class tomorrow, yes, and exams were coming up, and he had to get back to campus, but first… first he’d have breakfast with Chaya Rosenfeld. And maybe they’d talk, and maybe they wouldn’t, and either way it would be wonderful. 

**Author's Note:**

> Alemol is Yiddish for "always"


End file.
